Secrets
by Evaryn
Summary: Gambit and Rogue. More then meets they eye.... Rogue teams up with Gambit in his plan to defeat Sinister. And what happens if she starts to like the freedom of NOT working with the rest of the X-Men a little too much? Please R/R
1. Secrets

I already posted this a bit back.. but i looked at it recently and I didn't like the look of it all squished together.   
the characters are of coarse not mine... etc.....  
Main characters are Remy and Rogue.   
This was meant to be a longer story, but i lost the trail at the end... Hopefully I'll find them again soon.  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One...  
  
Rogue sat in the kitchen finishing off the rest of yesterday's Cajun supper. Spicy, meaty, and yummy, she didn't have to know what he called it or what he put in it, she preferred not to actually, but damn she like his cooking. Remy complained royally whenever his turn to cook came, but he never stuck them with take out or macaroni the way Bobby and Logan often did.   
  
Despite the food, she still couldn't help feeling somewhat pissed off. Remy spent half the afternoon making dinner, slopped a few spoons of it into a Tupperware container and disappeared saying he'd be back for the scheduled morning practice. He did not show up for practice. Xavier, from the observation stage above had everyone wait fifteen minutes and then cancelled the session and secluded himself in his office.  
  
Now an hour later Remy arrived, sans prize Harley, and from the back of a taxi. His entire right side looked scraped and bloody, and he favoured his right leg. He didn't look up at Rogue as he limped passed her, or even offer a sarcastic comment. Xavier appeared at the door on cue and ushered him directly into his private office with Hank in tow.   
  
Rogue staked out the kitchen after that, listening carefully for the tell tale signs of life emerging from Xavier's office. After two full hours of waiting, her patience was rewarded. Rouge threw her finished plate in the sink, and flew towards her query. Remy now looked cleaner then before, the old blood gone, new blood seeping through the bandages at some places. Hank supported him as they walked up to Remy's apartment. Rogue hung back until they had the door opened. "Can I help?" She asked from the end of the hall.   
  
Hank hesitated, but Remy shrugged. "Sure." Hank Helped Remy inside and to the bed situated in the corner of the room. Rogue tried not to stare as she entered, realising with some dismay that she'd never been in Remy's room before, it had always been him coming to her room.   
  
"What c'n ah do?" She asked tentatively.   
  
Hank turned as though surprised to find her still there, but Remy answered in a barely audible voice. "How 'bout a glass of water?"  
  
Rogue nodded as Hank turned to leave. "I have some suitable painkillers down in the lab." He said and left, closing the door behind him.   
  
Rogue found a glass for Remy in his bathroom. He now sat on the bed massaging his knee.   
She passed it to him without a word.   
  
"'Tanks." He drank half of it and handed it back to her. "You don' 'av to stay if you don' want to." He offered.  
  
"Ah'll stay." She stood back and regarded his room again. "Ah never thought your room would be so clean."   
  
Remy coughed a small laugh. "What did y' expect?"  
  
She took in the antique lamp and bed frame, a few pencil sketches on the walls, and shelves and shelves of books. "Not this." She walked up closer to one of the sketches. It depicted the face of an older black woman she guessed to be in her sixties, smiling, and looking very motherly. One of the other sketches was of a young girl, about fifteen years old, sitting on a pier, seeming not to be aware of anyone watching her, but she seemed sad. The third sketch Rogue frowned at. In this was drawn a sleeping figure, a slight smile on her lips, and a distinctive mark in her hair. Rogue's first instinct was to get mad, but the way she was drawn made her look beautiful. "Who drew these?"  
  
Remy opened one swollen eye and regarded her carefully. "D'ey're mine."  
  
"I see that, but who drew them?"   
  
"I did, a long time ago." He shifted and cursed. Rogue turned to see him clutching his side in apparent pain, after a few seconds he sighed and relaxed.   
  
"What happened Remy?" She asked softly.   
  
"I'll be fine."  
  
Rogue decided not to press him on it, yet. "The sketches are beautiful." She said instead.   
  
He looked up surprised. "T'ank-you."   
  
"Who are they?"  
  
He pointed at the sketch of the black woman. "Ma Tante Mattie, and de girl is Bella back when were kids."  
  
Rogue nodded, trying not to feel jealous. "When did you do the sketch of me?"  
  
"Few years ago." He said evasively, though he could remember exactly when he drew it and what he thought at the time. They'd just gotten back home after checking out some reports of Marauder activity in LA, nothing came of it and they had the rest of the afternoon free. He came inside after having a game of solitary basketball and there she was. He hadn't really looked at her too closely before then, mainly concentrating on flirting with Jean to drive Scott insane. He stayed in the hall, didn't even enter the room because he didn't want to disturb her, and just stared. After that he went back to his room and dug out the already long unused sketchpad and charcoal. The image came just as easily as it did years ago when his papa first gave him the book.   
  
"How come I've never seen you draw anything?"  
  
"Yours is the last I did."  
  
Hank walked in halting any more questions. Rouge stepped back while he gave Remy a small container of pills.   
  
"Only take one at a time, they aren't your garden variety supermarket painkillers." He looked at Rogue and then looked at Remy. "I'll check in on you later." He said and made a hasty exit.   
  
Remy stared at the pills a while longer before putting them aside.   
  
"What happened?" Rouge turned back to him.   
  
"A warning." He said finally.   
  
Rogue frowned. "One hell of a warning. You look half dead."  
  
"I made a mistake. It wont happen again."  
  
Rogue sat on the edge of the bed. "I've never seen you make a mistake."  
  
"What d'you t'ink happened?"  
  
Rogue leaned closer. "You tell me."   
  
He opened his mouth and Rogue held her breath for the answer. "Come with me next time."  
  
"Is it personal or an X-men thing?"  
  
"X-men thing." He said.   
  
"And you'll give me all the details?"  
  
"Yes." He reached over, took one of the pills from the container and dry swallowed it. "Later."  
  
"Okay." Rogue looked out the window. "Remy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"If it's an X-men thing, why didn't you have anyone to back you up?"  
  
"I did. I chose not to use it." He looked up at the ceiling, already feeling himself start to drift. Note to self; thank Hank for great painkillers.   
  
"Why not?"  
  
He looked back at Rogue, there seemed to be three of her floating across the room. He tried to concentrate on the one in the middle. "If I asked for help, then someone would have come."  
  
"Of coarse. Thats the point."  
  
"Dat's why I didn'. No one knows I'm an x-men"  
  
"Your with us all the time-"  
  
"Ever seen me in the papers?"   
  
"No."  
  
He fought to keep from slurring his words, or from slipping into whatever peaceful and happy oblivion waited just around the corner. He blinked and it took a conscious effort to open his eyes. "T'dem, I'm a free agent."   
  
"You said this was a warning, what happens next time?"  
  
Remy closed his eyes and didn't reopen them. "Y' use to work wit' Raven, y'know wha' it means." He murmured and then drifted off.   
  
Rogue watched him sleep for a moment and then left to find Hank and get some answers.   
  
As usual he had himself walled up in the Lab. She entered without knocking. "To what can I owe this not so unexpected rendezvous?" He asked cordially perched on the edge of his chair.   
  
Rogue almost growled. "What the hell is going on? How did Remy get hurt?"  
  
Hank sighed. "So far as the professor and I were able to understand from our uncooperative colleague, everything had been fine until a semi-trailer pulled out in front of his intended escape route."  
  
"Why didn't anyone help him?"  
  
"Had we known, we would have, but as far as the Professor knew, the mission was thus far accomplished and Gambit gave no indication that pursuit was eminent."  
  
"What exactly was Gambit doing?"   
  
"Acquiring sensitive information, as he has done numerous times in the past with far more satisfactory conclusions. Rogue, Xavier didn't know gambit was in trouble."  
  
"The worlds greatest telepath should have known something."  
  
Hank walked forward and put a comforting hand on Rouge's shoulder. "Remy could have contacted Xavier at any time."  
  
"Why did he wait so long?"  
  
"Apparently he waited until they finished." Hank informed her grimly.  
  
Rogue stopped breathing for a second. "When did they catch him?"  
  
"Just after two AM as far as I'm aware, Remy wasn't sure, but Xavier remembers cutting contact at two."  
  
"So what happened between two and nine this morning?" Rouge urged.   
  
"Gambit told us they questioned him. By morning they were tired and apparently satisfied with Remy's explanation that he worked alone. They dumped him in a ditch, which he subsequently crawled out of and called a cab."  
  
Rogue felt uneasy. The whole scenario felt off. "What kind of information was he stealing?"  
  
"Liberating is the word we good guy types use." Hank corrected with an attempt at humour. "Medical research in mutant genetics. Fisk enterprises."  
  
"You had him go alone to steal from Kingpin!"   
  
"He's done it before."  
  
Rogue sat down and looked at the floor for a moment. "Who knows about this?"  
  
Hank shrugged.  
  
"Why would Xavier do this? None of the rest of us ever has to go on potentially life threatening secret missions."  
  
"Probably because Remy prefers it that way. He's a thief Rogue. Logan told me once he heard that Gambit could possibly be one of the best thieves in the world. To be that good, I have to assume he enjoys what he does."  
  
Rogue didn't have an answer to that. "You said he was questioned. What did they do?"  
  
Hank looked away from her and towards some unrelated papers on his desk. "Most of the injuries are from the motorcycle, he said he thought he'd be able to skid under the truck like in action movies, but the bike hit a wet patch and went down. The rest of it was pretty much par for the coarse."  
  
Rogue thought about Mystique's par for the course. "How did they question him?"  
  
Hank didn't answer right away and Rogue felt her stomach clench. "He wouldn't say what happened."  
  
"He told me he chose not to contact us." Rogue said uneasily. "What kind of man-"   
  
Hank stopped her before she could say more. "There are a lot of things we don't know about Remy's past."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"It means I c'n handle myself." Remy said from the door.   
  
Both Hank and Rogue turned in guilty surprise. Remy stood in the hall wearing a dark blue terry cloth robe. Slowly he entered the room, obviously still in pain, and sat down in the nearest chair.   
  
"You should be in bed." Rogue blurted the first thing to come into mind.   
  
"I had a truck bring my bike, it's sitting out front. Got some scratches an' stuff, but not'in I can' fix." He watched their reactions. Remy shrugged, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw. He got up and shuffled through some papers on Hanks desk, pulled out a folder from underneath a pile of photocopies and handed it to Rogue. "If you're still serious 'bout comin' wit' me next week, read dis." He tossed it in her lap. Hank looked alarmed, but Rogue opened the folder to take a quick glance. It looked like what Henry talked about earlier, mutant genetic research on the possible trigger factors of different mutant characteristics; what causes physical versus psychic mutations.   
  
"Keep reading." Remy said softly when she was about to close the folder. Rogue passed a few pages, and now she saw the research charts.   
  
"Where could they get this kind of data?" Just reading about the results made her ill, about researchers altering genes in embryos to eliminate and create mutant characteristics, and then disposing of the experiments. "Is Sinister involved?"   
  
Hank hung his head. "We don't know; a third party involved with the research came to us with concerns." He turned to Remy. "You should be in bed." Hank stated the obvious.   
  
Remy shrugged. "I'm OK." He stood up and leaned against the wall in the hope that would keep him more or less alert.   
  
"What exactly happened?"  
  
"It takes time to download d' necessary data, and so I had help from our contact inside. I recognised a blip in d' system as a trace and intervened to take suspicion off her."  
  
"So yah let them do this to yah?"  
  
"I made dem believe I threatened her for d' information."  
  
Rogue walked up to him and looked him in the eye. "Did they hurt you?"  
  
Remy held her gaze for a moment thinking how to answer that question. Did it hurt? Yes. Did it matter? No. "It's over Rogue." He said softly. She turned away from him.  
  
"Then I was right. You planned it all."  
  
"No. I fucked up the download; I almost got myself and the informant killed."  
  
"How about the bike accident?"  
  
"You t'ink I'd do dat to my bike if I had a choice?"  
  
"Did you?" She asked seriously.  
  
"What do you want to hear?"  
  
Hank suddenly realized he was trapped amidst a lovers quarrel. Not good, he didn't want to be seeing this and he didn't want to be hearing it either, but the only way out was between them, and he knew from experience the best thing to do in these situations is just to melt into the surroundings and pretend to be occupied with something else.   
  
Rogue stood up and started pacing. "I want to believe you're the same man I always thought you were."  
  
"And what is that?" Anger flashed in his usually unreadable eyes. "A snake charmer? Those were the words you used aren't they? You've never seemed to appreciate the lies I fed you before."  
  
"At least then I didn't have to worry about you."  
  
"You made it sound like you wanted the truth."   
  
"I did, I do. Remy, I'm just trying to take it all in, and it's an awful lot to get used to."  
  
"No it isn't. I'm still the same man Rogue. The only thing that's different is now you have to accept that I'm a thief, and that the Professor decided to make use of my skills rather then assuming all I'm good for is blowing things up."   
  
"I don't like seeing you hurt."  
  
"And you think I like when you take on a Sentinel single handed?"  
  
"At least I'm invulnerable."   
  
"I've seen you get hurt; you aren't invulnerable. Even if you were it wouldn't change anything." Remy tried to focus on the argument. "No one else knows about what I'm doing, and it will stay that way. As far as anyone's concerned my injuries are from the bike accident."  
  
"No one's going to believe that."  
  
"Yes they will, you think this is the first time I've done this?" Remy closed his eyes as the world spun and everything started to turn fuzzy. He looked for the chair, but the motion of turning his head set things spinning even faster.   
  
Remy's hand sought out the wall and he held it for balance, and to demonstrate to his uncooperative mind that the room did not move.  
  
Rogue flew to his side and gently touched his arm. "I'll help you."  
  
He shook her off. "I'm fine. I don't need or want any help."   
  
She took his arm this time and held on. "Too bad, cause I'm goanna help you whether you like it or not."   
  
He did not speak to her again, but he did not object as she helped him sit down.   
  
Remy closed his eyes and concentrated on quelling the whirlwind inside. He opened his eyes again and stood up using the chair as leverage. "I don't need your help."  
  
Rogue stepped back as Remy slowly walked past her and out of the med lab. Henry watched too.  
  
"I better follow him." She said and flew out. She found him on the stairs, walking slowly, but still walking.   
  
"Why do you have to be so stubborn? There's an elevator on the other side of the hall."  
  
She touched the ground behind him and followed slowly. "Your just going to make it worse." She muttered.   
  
"I need to keep moving." On the main floor he stopped and entered the kitchen. Rogue followed but knew better then to offer to help as he made himself a sandwich.   
  
"You could at least sit down to eat."   
  
He glared at her, but stayed leaning against the counter.   
  
Betsy and Warren entered moments later, and stood a moment staring at Gambit. "Heard there was an accident. Shouldn't you be in the med lab?"  
  
Rogue smirked. Gambit shrugged. "Nothin a few days won't cure." He said and limped back to the fridge.  
  
He pulled out a beer.   
  
"Should you be doing that with the pills Hank gave you?" Rogue asked as he snapped off the top.   
  
"Never said not to."  
  
"He didn't say you should either."   
  
He raised the bottle to her in a mock toast and took a long drink.   
  
"So how'd it happen?" Warren asked.  
  
"Let's just say I should know better by now."  
  
Warren frowned. "You were drinking?"  
  
Remy grinned sardonically. "Like I said..."  
  
Rogue paled. So then that was his plan? The great masterful plan to hide the real reason for his injuries? "This is insane."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?" Warren laughed. Remy took another long swallow from the bottle, Rogue noticed him sway just a little.   
  
She took his arm. "I think you should be resting." She gritted through clenched teeth and forced him to follow. She also took the bottle out of his hands, surprised that it still seemed to be full. she dumped it in the sink.   
  
She led Remy to the elevator. "Is everything you do an act?"  
  
He almost lost his balance, but for the fact that Rogue held a steel grip on his arm, he would have fallen.   
"What?"   
  
She dragged him into the elevator. "In the lab you just told me your still the same person."  
  
"I am."  
  
"You didn't drink any beer."  
  
"Rogue, I meant it when I said I don't want your help, Hanks happy pills must have effected me more then I thought."  
  
"You can't take it back."  
  
"I know."  
  
Rogue bit her tongue from saying anything she'd regret. As the door opened she took his arm and helped him to his room.   
  
He lay down as soon as he got to the bed.   
  
"You're exhausted." She commented.   
  
"What else is new?"  
  
"So tell me something, what have you been faking?"  
  
"You mean other then everything? Maybe I'm pretending to be who I really am."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense." Rogue said and sat on the edge of the bed.   
  
"Sure it does?"  
  
Rogue thought for a moment. "Seattle aside, and you can't hold what I said there against me." She looked towards the sketch he drew of her. "I see someone I care about."  
  
"I still don't want your help."  
  
"We'll discuss it tomorrow." Rogue sat back and watched him ignore her for a moment, then quietly left.   
  
  
"So what's the story with lover bayou?" Betsy asked when Rogue came back down to the kitchen.   
  
"He's sleeping now."  
  
"I asked Hank about the pain killers and alcohol. He didn't seem too pleased."  
  
"Thanks." Rogue sat down at the table and started at the place mat.   
  
"So what really happened?" Betsy prodded.  
  
Rogue shrugged. "Just an accident I guess. He never said."  
  
"Warren thinks he was drinking."  
  
Rogue felt herself slipping. "Maybe. Probably." She wiped a wayward tear away before it could slip down her cheek. "I wish he'd be more careful."  
  
Betsy put a comforting hand on Rogue's shoulder. "But then he wouldn't be Gambit."  
  
"I know. But what if he doesn't care?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You've seen him in battle, he takes so many crazy risks, what it he does it because he doesn't care whether he gets hurt or not?"  
  
Betsy thought for a moment, and recalled several sparing sessions they had together. Rogue was right he didn't ever seem too concerned about consequences. "Then I'd have to say that's probably why he's so good at what he does."  
  
"Do you think so?"  
  
"Yes." Betty took a sip of her cola.  
  
"I wish he'd be more careful."   
  
Betty smiled. "But that wouldn't be any fun." She drank the rest of her drink and left Rogue sitting at the table contemplating. 


	2. after this...

Here is a little chapter, but I figure if i get it posted, it will help drive me to write more.....  
Again sorry about bad accents etc, but I really do try. And please! give me feed back!  
  
  
  
  
Make a list. First and formost throw out the damn painkillers. Remy yawned and sat up in bed, he didn't mean to sleep this long, he planned to at least be up by nightfall and now the moon shown through his window.   
  
Vaguely he remember some kind of curse about moons thorugh unshaded windows, like he needed any more curses against him.   
  
The pills...he picked them up off the night stand and just stared at the unlabeled bottle. There should be a warning or a disclaimer or something, patient can not be held to any promise made while medicated. Though to be perfectly honest he asked Rogue to join him even before taking the damn thing. That in itself should speak volumes about his lack of sense. Anyone would be tired after skidding half a block on cement, an exageration but it felt that way. Cautiously he checked his scrapes, ugly, but he hoped it wouldn't scar too much.   
  
Maybe he'd get lucky and Rogue would change her mind about joioning him. Not likely.   
  
Remy stretched and stood up slowly, his head spun, but only a little, and he followed the wall to the bathroom. "Well don't you just look like something crawling out of the weeds." He muttered, and grinned despite himself. His tante Mattie said that to him. A wave of old home sickness washed over him. What would she be doing now? Eleven pm, she would still be awake, no early to bed for her.   
  
Not that he'd know anymore. He left New Orleans when he was seventeen and hadn't been back since. The reflection in the mirror stared back at him. The guild accepted him because of his eyes, not in spite of them. In an organisation deeply entrenched in its folklore and superstitions, no one dared cross him.   
  
Superstition proved to be his friend again last night. No one want to be the one to piss of the devils own. They covered his eyes with a cloth. The night didn't go too badly all things considered. Now he only had to go back there and actually retrive the information he meant to steal in the first place.   
  
Time to face the fact, he went in over confident and under prepared. He didn't expect them to have upgraded the security on the computer since his last retrieval operation. A theif of his calibur should never take things for granted. it meant he was getting lazy, and he knew only too well that getting lazy was the first step to getting killed.  
  
The second step to getting killed, taking on a partner. He made that one up, but he figured it fit. If the mission didn't kill him Rogue probably would. Sure she could do the up front fighting better then anyone he ever met, but he doubted she ever bothered to pick a lock rather then just tear it off.   
  
Hunger drove him out of his room towards the kitchen. He saw light in the common room, and heard what sounded like an action movie turned up to almost full blast, fortunately the kitchen lay in the other directin. He turned the light off as he entered, his eyes were naturally made for darkness.   
  
The light came on a second later.   
  
"How you feeling?" Rogue asked too seriously.  
  
Remy regarded her with suspicion. "Fine." He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Rogue took it away from him and put it on the counter. Gently, but firmly she pushed him aside and poured a glass of orange juice which she put into his hand instead.   
  
He took it and sat down. Rogue opened the beer for herself. "You look like hell." She stated frankly.  
  
"T'anks."   
  
She smiled. "Did you just wake up?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She looked to either side before leaning close. She whispered, "When are we going?"  
  
He took a sip of the orange juice. "We aren't."  
  
She just smiled knowingly in response. "Do you know what I think?"  
  
"No. Do you?"  
  
"I think you know you've already lost, you just don't want to accept it. Yet. But thats okay, I can wait." She stood up, still smiling. "Just let me know when you're ready." She flew out of the room and back to the movie. 


	3. Another Chance

He watched her watching him all week.  
  
He tried to avoid her. It didn't work. He tried to insult her and start a fight. That didn't work either. He tried to ignore her. She wouldn't let him. If he ever doubted her ability to trail someone before, this convinced him. Of coarse, if he really wanted to he could lose her easily (or so he told himself), but he didn't, and even more frustratingly, he didn't know why.   
  
So now he sat on the roof of the mansion, staring up at the stars. It hurt the eyes to stare at nothing so hard. So why do it? Same reason he ever did, the stars made him feel small, mortal, and unimportant. The stars put everything into perspective whenever he felt himself getting too caught up in things.   
  
Rogue swooped down and sat a few feet away. Remy consciously avoided looking at her, but the smell of burnt (what the hell kind of smell is that anyway) caught his curiosity. He glanced her way. Her jacket hung in tatters.   
  
"What happened?"  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing."  
  
Remy huffed and leaned back. Defeated again.  
  
"When are you going to give up?" She asked in barely a whisper.   
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Rogue huffed an echo of Remy's own frustration moments before. "This is stupid. I'm patient, but there are limits!"  
  
Small satisfaction. Remy stared again at the stars, trying very hard to remind himself again why... why what? Dammit. He got up and jumped off the roof, landing gracefully on the concrete patio below. Rogue followed a heartbeat later and landed in front of him.   
  
"I never asked you to get involved."   
  
"Yes you did."  
  
"I didn't mean to." He started walking away. Rogue kept pace, floating beside him.   
  
"At least tell me one thing, why don't you want my help?"  
  
He stopped. "Because I don't think you can do it."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Be subtle. The whole point of what I'm doing is to pass unnoticed. We aren't in a position to do anything about whatever genetic testing they are doing, we don't know anything except for what's in that folder Hanks got downstairs, and that's nothing. If we go running in there screaming and tearing things apart, they'll just move and continue whatever they're doing else where. We want to catch the one in charge. If its Sinister, it would be nice to catch him off guard and not just wander around an already abandoned laboratory like we usually do."  
  
Rogue stared at him, the sudden silence after his diatribe sizzling between them. And she looked at him. Really looked at him. Little physical evidence remained of the 'accident' last week. A slight scrape on his cheek, maybe he still moved to favour his right side, but his practice sessions in the Danger room were back to the levels they were before. Rogue looked at his eyes, red on black, they were the feature that every one saw first, and they were what she saw first back when he first joined the X-Men. Unfortunately she never bothered to look further. Other then being a mutant and a thief, what did she really know about the man? And not knowing anything, how could she claim to love him.   
  
And what made her think of that now.   
  
So what, that's not the point, Do I love him?  
  
She couldn't answer, and in not being able to answer, she realised the answer. No.   
  
But I could. "I can be subtle." She challenged.   
  
"Prove it."   
  
"How?" She floated closer, then landed. "Mamma made sure I know how to do things properly."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Do you think I advertise? Hey everyone! Remember me? Remember where I came from? I am not Carol Danvers; I never used to have her powers, or her conscience."  
  
Remy grinned. "So tell me Rogue, who are you?"  
  
She sat down, not on the wet grass but slightly above it, while Remy remained standing. "Who are you?" She asked back.   
  
Remy tapped a cigarette onto his palm. "You want to find out?"   
  
"We're not doing ourselves any good hanging around here."  
  
"How about we go somewhere and talk then?"  
  
"Sounds good to me."   
  
Minutes later Rogue perched on the back of Gambits bike. Rogue closed her eyes and didn't pay attention to the direction, just the fact that they were headed away from the mansion and all that's familiar. And that it felt good. 


	4. Sexy in Purple

Yet again, sorry about lack of accents.   
  
And now the story...  
  
  
  
She held him tightly, not that she needed to, but because of the thrill. She rode on the back of Remy's bike before, this time she paid attention. Small things, like Gambit's hair tickling her cheek, the feeling of warmth she could feel coming off his back, she imagined she could even feel his heart beat beneath her hands. Why did she convince herself before that she and Gambit were somehow destined to be together? "Stop here." She said into his ear.  
  
Wordlessly he pulled to the gravel side and turned off the motor. "What is it?"  
  
Rogue stepped off the bike and stretched. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
He shrugged. "I know a place-"  
  
"No."   
  
Remy leaned back against the bike. Rogue tried to read his expression. A quarter moon sat low on the horizon.   
  
"Is the moon waxing or waning?" She asked instead.  
  
He looked at it briefly. "Waning."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
He looked embarrassed. "A habit."   
  
"Hmm." Rogue desperately searched her brain for something to say, but couldn't think of anything that made sense.   
  
Remy spoke first. "We have to talk."  
  
She smiled. No wasting time. "Who do you think I am?"   
  
"Infuriating."  
  
"So are you. At least we have something in common." She laughed.  
  
"What happened to you tonight? You never said."   
  
The truth. Rogue swallowed first, anything to avoid having to talk right away. "I saw Mystique."  
  
"And she did that to you?"  
  
"No. Not exactly. It's complicated."  
  
"Why don't you explain it to me then?"  
  
Rogue concentrated on looking at the moon again. "Does it mean anything? A waning moon?"  
  
"Only if you're superstitious. Why did you see Mystique?"  
  
"Had a few things to ask her is all." She heard him sigh, and then the silence broke with the rumblings of a truck passing by. Dust flew through the air and slowly settled, Rogue wanted to sneeze. "Okay. I asked her if she knows anything about genetic research projects."  
  
Gambits eyes narrowed. "And?"  
  
"She doesn't, yet. But she knows someone who can get her the information."   
  
"And?"   
  
Rogue cleared her throat. "And what? She said she'd keep an eye out for me."  
  
"What happened to your uniform Rogue?"  
  
"Nothing really. Just, she didn't recognise me right away when I approached. Took her a minute to turn off her security system." She brushed a few fingers through her hair, conscious of the mess she must look. " She kicked the gravel around with her toe. "I really could help."  
  
"Maybe. Are you willing to follow my lead, and not go smashing everything in sight?"  
  
"Is that what you think I'm about? Do i look like the Hulk to you?"  
  
He laughed. "Your temper fits." He stepped forwards and Rogue froze, the movement catching her off guard after he hardly moved an inch since getting off the bike. He ran his hand along her hair. Her scalp tingled.   
  
"Don't." She whispered.  
  
Gambit pulled his hand away, slowly. "You have green eyes." He grinned mischievously. "And I bet you'd look sexy in purple." He did not reach for her again, but he stepped even closer. Rogue could feel his breath on her cheek.   
  
"Why do you keep doing this to me?"  
  
"Doing what?" He asked with mock innocence.   
  
"Why me? There were others, you didn't have to pick me!" She held out a hand, flat against his chest, keeping him from coming any closer. He cover her hand with his own.   
  
"I don't know."   
  
"Do you have a death wish? Cause that's exactly what I am!" This time she did push, harder then she intended, making him fall backwards.  
  
"I'm not going to beg." He said from the ground, and then slowly stood up, brushed the dust off, and walked back to his bike. "We were coming out here to talk, by my standards we haven't done much of that. If you have anything to say, say it now." He sat down and turn on the engine.   
  
Rogue stood motionless, and silent, looking up at the moon. She heard Gambit curse, and then gravel sprayed outwards as he accelerated.   
  
He didn't look back. Damn he wanted to. He wanted to go back, if she was even there still. Why did their attempts at being civil always end like this?  
  
He rode west, not really conscious of a destination, just concentrating on the wind, and the road, and trying so damn hard not to think. She asked him a good question though, one he thought about more often then she probably thought he did. Why choose her? Honestly he didn't choose her. He tried everything to ignore her, but he couldn't do it. Didn't anyone else recognise how beautiful she was? They treated her like a piece of broken glass.  
  
He didn't want to choose her. And he didn't want to be thinking of this now, he increased his speed.   
  
"Do you know how fast you're going?" the unmistakably southern voice said in his ear.  
  
Remy flinched only slightly from the shock. He slowed down and pulled to the side. "Yes."   
  
Rogue floated about five feet away now, but she hadn't been more then a couple inches from his ear when she spoke to him on the road. "I have more to say."   
  
He didn't answer.   
  
"I know what the moon means."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"No. Do you know what it means?"  
  
"Why don't you tell me?"  
  
"Endings."   
  
"Non, there's more to it then that." He looked up for a moment as if in confirmation. "Do you really want to help me get the research?"  
  
"Yes."   
  
"I want to kill Essex." He said easily, watching her for reaction. He expected her to get upset, start spouting the usual - wedontkill- slogan. But she didn't, and he continued. "I want find him, and the research is what I need to do it."  
  
"How? Unless it contains a roadmap..."   
  
He smiled. "The information has to be coming from somewhere. And I'm familiar with Sinister's hiding places."  
  
"Oh. So what do you want me to do?" 


	5. the morning after the night before

Tam5  
IN which Remy and Rogue actually do work together, sort of. Still a lack of accents though. Please read and Review, Let me know what you think!  
  
6am the morning after the night before, Danger room.   
  
..............  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You want me to do what?" It came out practically as a scream.   
  
"If you don't what to help just say so. I can still do this without you."   
  
They fought side by side in the danger room, considering the lack of privacy in the rest of the house they both decided to discus the details under the guise of training. This early in the morning, they both knew no one would bother interrupting.   
  
"I've already contacted my source, and she's been constantly monitored since I blew her cover. She doesn't even have the access to the documents that I need anymore. With the proper access, I can be in and out within half an hour at most. Otherwise..."   
  
She frowned, the way only a select few are able to really pull off and not look like idiots. But then again, he couldn't help but crack a tiny smile. She swung at him like he expected her too, and dodged. Being with Rogue required more then its fair share of dodging he noticed.   
  
"Don't try to talk me out of this Gambit. Who is it?" She bit her lip.   
  
"Marcus Cunningham. He is the head researcher on the project, and he'll have the security clearance." He pulled a folded up square of paper out of his pocket and tossed it to her, a laser almost incinerating it in mid-flight. Rogue caught it with her left hand while smashing a mini-buggy-blaster with the right. Where did Scott come up for the names of these stupid robot things?   
  
"So where should I get him?"  
  
"How long do the memory's you absorb last?" He hopped on top of a platform and planted a roundhouse kick on a swallow-shooter, sending it crashing into a trashcan six feet below. Showing off with a double somersault, Remy landed perfectly beside Rogue, and with one graceful back step managed to crush another mini-buggy-blaster coming up from behind.   
  
"Ever think of joining the circus?" Rogue teased.   
  
"As kids we tried once to put on one of our own." He extended his bow staff and batted down another swallow-shooter above. This one he aimed at Rogue, and she swatted it away with the back of her hand.   
  
"Sounds like fun." Rogue flew up and disabled one of the wall sensors.  
  
"Was, until Belle got a little enthusiastic with the knives." He jumped on top of one of the max blasters and charged the metal body, jumping away and out of range before it exploded.   
  
"It depends on the person." Rogue swooped down, picked him up and deposited him on one of the upper platforms.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Pay attention. My power, it depends, but usually there's an hour before it starts to fade."  
  
Remy glanced around, getting his bearings again, then jumped to the platform below to disable the second wall sensor. "We get him in the morning then."  
  
"The guards won't recognize you?"  
  
"Not if they don't see me." This time he flipped backwards caught a rod, swung, avoiding another swallow-shooter, then catching it with his foot on the second turn.   
  
"This doesn't sound very organized." Rogue huffed. She saw a mid-buggy-blaster taking aim at Gambit from below while he concentrated on the swallow-shooters. She flew down to take care of it.   
  
"It's organized, just not complicated." He jumped and landed beside her again as the mid-buggy-blaster fell apart under her wrist. "Plans don't have to be complicated to work."   
  
"End Program." Rogue ordered. All the robot toys stopped. "I've always wondered who fixes all these things and cleans the room after were done with it." She mused quietly while surveying the trashed surroundings.   
  
"One of those things it's just better not to know." Remy answered. He surveyed the damage they accomplished. "If we ask too many questions Scott will probably start making us clean it up."   
  
An awkward silence followed. Rogue wanted to ask for more details, but she simply asked for the meeting time instead.  
  
Remy started his after workout stretches. "Five AM. We'll head in early, make sure Cunningham won't make any last second schedule changes. Dress for business."  
  
"Scott signed in a team practice tomorrow at eight." Rogue looked towards the calendar.   
  
"So? Make up an excuse." He grinned. "Or, we could just get a motel room and let them come to their own conclusions."   
  
"I don't think so." She shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Remy laughed. "Let me know what works best for you, but Rogue, they're going to think something's up when we are the only ones MIA. Won't matter what time we leave."   
  
"I'll think about it." She watched him walk away after that, leaving her alone in a room with dead robot parts. It didn't take her long to run for the women's change room.  
  
In the shower she reviewed the plan again. Absorb Cunningham's memories, casually walk up to the computer lab, meet Remy and give him the codes as he hacks the computer files, wait for the down load, and get out. They didn't have to break in or fight anyone, just walk in and out, and this time Remy assured her, he wouldn't trip any inner security codes. Anticipation pumped through her blood at the thought of actually doing something other then fighting crazy super villains. Dread however made the whole thing somewhat less exciting. Dread for what though? Not like she was going to kill anyone, just needed to borrow the guy's memories for a little while. And then Remy can go kill someone. She didn't even know how Remy planned to do it, if he had any plan at all. She got the impression though that he decided long ago how best to kill Sinister.   
  
Before leaving the change room Rogue peeked back into the danger room. Tens of little sweeper robot toys scoured the floor for any spare parts dislodged in the mechanical massacre. Some were even fitting parts back together. Rogue chuckled to herself, she knew there had to be some kind of reasonable explanation.   
  
....  
  
Remy headed up to the kitchen. Half way through the session with Rogue he felt his stomach start to rumble, but that's what you get for staying awake all night after skipping supper. Bobby sat at the table eating frozen... oatmeal. Remy cast him an odd glance and moved on to the fridge to pull out a carton of eggs. An omelette sounded decent this morning. A hot, well-cooked omelette, he added.   
  
Bobby turned in his chair and glared at him, there were circles under his eyes and a well used book of crossword puzzles lying closed beside the oatmeal. Remy groaned inwardly. It always had to be something didn't it, what did he do now to incur the wrath of frosty? He knew that if he didn't simply ask, the guy would be staring at him like that until he, or someone else intervened and asked for him.   
  
"What do you want?" Remy asked while spicing his eggs.  
  
The temperature in the kitchen dropped a few degrees. No answer from the iceman though.   
  
Remy turned to face him. "What?"  
  
"What time did you bring Rogue home this morning?"  
  
"She's not a child Bobby, why don't you ask her?" Remy took a deep breath. He knew where this little interrogation was going. Another instalment in the stay away from Rogue lecture series.   
  
Bobby got up, holding his spoon threateningly. "She's come too far just to be dragged back into the dirt with you."  
  
"I didn't think we were that dirty when we got back this morning. Plenty of dust, but then that's what you get when you ride on dirt roads." Remy responded slowly in an -I'm talking to a child- voice.  
  
The temperature dropped yet again. Remy turned and flipped over his omelette before it burnt.   
  
"She doesn't need you messing with her life. Do you get some kind of sick thrill by treating her like a regular girl?"  
  
The door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. "And why shouldn't I be treated like a girl?" Rogue stood in the doorway. Her voice soft and dangerously calm.   
  
"I was just..."  
  
"Sticking your nose in where it don't belong?" She finished for him.   
  
Bobby grumbled. "Rogue, don't you get it? You're just a convenient distraction to him!"  
  
Gambit watched Rogue's reaction for a moment debating whether or not to defend himself, and then decided to turn around and finish making his omelette instead. He knew he wouldn't be gaining any brownie points by jumping in now.  
  
"Cause what kind of man would actually choose to want a woman he can't touch?" She leaned against the doorframe. "I'm having fun, and I get some attention from someone who doesn't act like I have the plague."  
  
"We don't want to see you hurt." Bobby defended himself.   
  
"We, huh? Where is it proclaimed, We must all look out for Rogue cause she's to stupid to take care of herself? As I recall I've been able to take care of myself just fine in the past. Or do you have some kind of insight on the future that I'm not aware of?"   
  
"Do you think you're going to be any different from any one else he destroyed? How about the girl he and Sabertooth killed?" Bobby sneered.   
  
Rogue watched Remy carefully. So far Remy didn't move but she shifted position to be ready to physically restrain him if need be. "Go away Bobby."  
  
"I was here first, and I'm not going anywhere. He probably still works for Sinister, ask him where he was when he crashed his Harley! Wolverine even said he smelt like a laboratory." Bobby stood up, and Gambit turned around.   
  
Rogue looked Remy in the eye for a second. Bobby followed her gaze and turned to Gambit. "Looking for more Moorlocks you can kill?"  
  
Remy's eyes were glowing menacingly before that, now the glow took up the entire eye. "You'll do." He said, but didn't move.   
  
Rogue didn't dare move a muscle. She could feel the temperature in the room drop further. Frost gathered on the windowpane. Bobby's eyes narrowed, she knew he was about to do something, and she could guess that if a fight broke out between the two of them, the kitchen didn't stand a chance.   
  
Remy flinched then reached behind so fast she could hardly follow the movement and grabbed the handle of the frying pan, but he dropped it and fell to his knee before he even had a chance to send charge into it. The Cajun took his eyes off Bobby and put his left hand to his chest, the other to the ground to keep upright. Rogue stood dumb as Remy fought to draw in breath.   
  
The momentary paralysis broke a second later, and Rogue lunged forwards grabbing Bobby. He didn't turn to ice, but she felt her hand burn with cold as she grabbed his shirt. "Let him go!"   
  
The air suddenly lost its frigidity. Bobby started to shake slightly and took a step backwards, as far as her grip would let him go. Gambit remained on the floor gasping for breath. Rogue threw Bobby against the wall, hard enough that the calendar dropped from its hook. "I told you to stop, or I will do it for you." She held her hand threateningly over the bare skin of his neck.   
  
"I did, I swear Rogue. I stopped." He stared at Remy. "We have to call Hank."   
  
Rogue left him and flew to Remy's side. He lay on his side now, still holding his chest and unable to breath freely. "What did you do to him?"  
  
Bobby finished talking to Hank and turned off the COM. "I don't know." He cautiously stepped closer. "Hank's on his way."   
  
Moments later Hank crashed through the door. He stepped past Bobby without a glance and knelt beside the man on the floor. He didn't hesitate before scooping him up and carrying him down to the lab. "Turn off the element." Were the only words he spared for bobby as he rushed out the door.   
  
Rogue followed, and she heard Bobby walking a short distance behind.  
  
Hank deposited Remy on a bed, and then shut the door before Rogue and Bobby could follow him inside. Rogue just stood in the hall staring at the door for a minute. Celia pushed her aside roughly on her way into the lab. Rogue didn't try to follow. She knew she'd just be in their way. Bobby sat on the floor; his knees pulled up to his chest, and head down.   
  
"What did you do?" Rogue asked again.   
  
Bobby looked up, but he didn't say anything. Rogue sat against the opposite wall, and they waited together in silence. To Rogue, each minute felt like an hour.   
  
Celia stepped out of the lab after half an hour. She looked down at both of them. She turned and walked back in, leaving the door open in as much as an invitation as they were going to get. Both Rogue and Bobby walked inside. Rogue stepped up beside the bed and lay her hand on the mattress beside Remy's head. She watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed. She didn't want to look at the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.   
  
"What happened?" She asked Hank.  
  
He turned to her. "We were about to ask you that."  
  
"We were fighting." Bobby whispered. "He threatened me."   
  
Rogue whipped around. "What are you talking about!"   
  
He looked at the ground but didn't leave. "I had to stop him. He said he'd kill me." 


	6. It would be so easy

tam6  
hi, just a little note. The last chapter took me in a direction I didn't expect to go, but I like Bobby, and I haven't finished with him yet! Anyhow... here is chapter 6. (Attempt at accents, I should be great at this accent thing seeing as I'm married to a Frenchmen, but I've gotten so used to it I can't even tell if he even has an accent anymore! Though all our friends insist he does. Sniff, not good but the best I can do, be kind.) Please read and review.   
  
  
  
  
"That's not what happened!" Rogue yelled.   
  
"I could feel the air charging all around me. He could have blown up the entire kitchen!" Bobby insisted.   
  
Hank turned to Rogue and raised his eyebrows. "Well?"   
  
"He's lying. Bobby provoked him!"  
  
"I had to defend myself. He had the frying pan!" Bobby interjected.   
  
"Only cause he was making an omelette!" She looked around the room. "Damn it Bobby, why are ya doing this?"   
  
"I only wanted to stop him."  
  
Celia stepped between the two. "Settle this later."   
  
Rogue shifted her attention back down to Remy. "Is he okay?"  
  
Celia narrowed her eyes. "No. He almost died. As it is I don't know the extent of the damage."   
  
Bobby cleared his throat. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
Hank sat down. "We don't know for sure..."   
  
Celia huffed impatiently. "It's like hypothermia on the inside. Of coarse I've never seen this happen before because the patient is always dead before ice starts to form on their insides."   
  
Rogue bit her lip. "Will he be okay?"  
  
Hank shook his head from side to side. "We don't know. The Shi'ar equipment can only tell us so much, and in this case it doesn't tell us enough. All we can do now is wait and see, and hope for the best."   
  
Rogue nodded. "Do you mind if I stay for a while?"   
  
Hank looked away and Celia didn't bother to answer. Rogue pulled a desk chair up to the bed and sat down. She stared at her hands. The gloves covering her skin, keeping everyone she cared about safe. It would be so easy. She pulled off her glove and laid it neatly beside Remy on the bed.   
  
It would be so easy.   
  
"Bobby?"  
  
He stood by the door, staring into the lab, and not at anything in particular. "What?" He shifted his body weight from one foot to the other. He could not look her in the eye.   
  
"Why are ya still here?" She kept the free hand in her jeans pocket. No use in scaring him off yet.   
  
He shrugged.   
  
"It was an accident right?" Rogue searched his eyes, but they revealed nothing. "Ah need to know why ya did it." She took her hand out of her pocket. Bobby looked at her hand, and lowered himself to the floor to sit down.  
  
She knelt beside him. "Give me a reason not to."   
  
.......  
  
Burning. He felt it in his chest, his throat, behind his eyes. Breathing. He couldn't get enough air, and the effort of trying to force more air into his body, brought on coughing.   
  
The episode passed quickly. The coughing subsided and Remy opened his eyes to dim light. The room smelt of a disturbingly sterile strawberry fresh scent. Medlab. So far so good. He sat up, moving slowly because he didn't want to have to cough again.   
  
He remembered the kitchen. Bobby. A sick feeling turned his stomach. The only light in the room came from a desk lamp. The naked hoola dancer lamp Bobby bought Hank for Christmas. Everyone agreed they'd never seen anything uglier in all their lives, hence the position of splendour on Hanks desk. Other then the lamp, Gambit was alone.   
  
Carefully he got out of bed and onto his feet. The main motivation at the moment revolved around finding the closest bathroom, and a clock. In that order. The bathroom would be easy enough, just along the other wall, he just had to make it over there. But despite feeling a little light headed, and having to walk with bare feet on a really cold floor, he accomplished the first mission easily enough. Along the way he kept a lookout for his clothes, which he did not find. The hospital gown did nothing against the chill in the air, so he wrapped one of the blankets from the bed around his shoulders for warmth.   
  
Now onto the more difficult task, finding a clock. Unfortunately Hand did not approve of keeping time in his work area. How did he describe it? Remy couldn't remember, but it had something to do with food. And speaking of food ... Bobby could have at least waited until he had a chance to eat before picking a fight. No clocks in Hank's lab. That meant the closest he could hope to find would be in the observation deck of the danger room. The idea of leaving the lab wearing only a gown and a blanket didn't sit too well, but desperate times call for desperate measures.   
  
After another unsuccessful search for slippers, Remy crept out the door. Instead of the danger room, he decided to head straight for his own room where at least he'd be able to find some clothes. Silence followed him the entire way, and he felt considerably better by the time he arrived at his own room. Wouldn't it just figure that as soon as he's back on his feet he'd get knocked down again right away?   
  
Before looking at the clock, Remy looked out the window. Night. It took a minute for him to reflect on the implications of that. The alarm clock by his bed read One Am, that meant there was still time. He wanted to get the job finished as soon as possible, and all his plans hung on doing it this morning. He even paid in advance the appropriate people to make sure the guards would be preoccupied. It would be a shame to waste that.   
  
Thankful to be rid of the hospital gown and blanket, Remy carefully chose a suit from his closet. Nothing too expensive, but good enough to pass as one of the drones coming to work each morning. Contact lenses topped the disguise, hiding his mutant eyes under state of the art unremarkable brown ones. Next step, Rogue.   
  
Remy chose to take the balcony in order to bypass rest of the house. Other then just the one area he had to hop across, he had direct access to Rogue's bedroom window. Her curtains were drawn. He tapped on her window lightly, heard a thump from within, then the curtain pulled open.   
  
The very picture of beauty stood wrapped in a night robe with her hair kinked up on one side of her head and puffy swollen eyes. She did not look impressed to be woken up. Remy smiled at her and leaned against the doorframe. He pointed at his watch.   
  
"I know it be earlier t'en we planed, but..."  
  
Rogue pulled open the door and yanked him inside. "Remy!" Rogue flipped on the light switch. Remy reached out and flipped it back off. "What are you ... but you were?"   
  
Damn, but she can be cute when she's flustered. "C'n you be ready in half 'n hour?"   
  
A nod. But she didn't move. "Remy, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine." He lied, but only slightly. He wondered if she could hear the rasp to his voice, but hoped it was subtle enough to pass notice. He cleared his throat. "C'n you be ready?"  
  
She appeared to think about it for a moment. "We can't postpone it?"  
  
"We don' have to." He assured her and sat down on the edge of her bed.   
  
Rogue grabbed a silk glove off her bureau and hastily pulled it on. "Are ya sure you're okay sugar?" She asked while putting one hand against his forehead. She thought maybe it felt a little hot, but then again she didn't know what normal felt like either. It just felt like the thing to do at the time, and now she felt a little embarrassed for having done it.   
  
Her hand felt cold against his skin. Remy looked up and ran his hand along the sleeve of her night robe. "I'm not going t'get you into anyt'ing I can't get you out of. Trust me."   
  
..................  
  
Next part coming soon! Don't forget to review! And please give me suggestions on how to improve accents!!! (Or if there is anything else I could improve on, let me know about that too) 


	7. trust me

"I trust you."   
  
Remy nodded once, and headed back outside. "We'll meet in the garage in half an hour." He whispered, then jumped down.   
  
The cool night air entered the room. Rogue breathed it in deeply and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Too much happened in the last 12 hours for her not to feel dazed.   
  
Bobby for example.   
  
Rogue looked towards her door, and the rest of the mansion. She knew what she should do. She should wake up Hank and inform him that his Cajun patient has once again gone AWOL. She should take Gambit straight back to the med lab for a complete check up.   
  
Rogue looked in the mirror. Not a flattering sight to see her sleep tousled hair and puffy eyes. "There's a lot of things I should be doin', ain't there?" She muttered to herself and headed for the bathroom. Maybe she wouldn't be ready in exactly half an hour, but it would be damn close.   
  
...  
  
Food. Remy silently entered the kitchen and set about making himself a sandwich. He concentrated on the morning ahead. There were no messages on his cell phone, and the instructions were to phone only if something went wrong. He didn't feel too bad, but if something went wrong and he had to fight his way out? Well, he had Rogue for that, right? He even had a contingency plan if they didn't get the codes off Cunningham. A wonderful new piece of technology, designed by Fisk's not so legitimate partners, he acquired earlier in the week. What better method of testing could there be? Use black-market tech to break into the legitimate enterprises of the same company.   
  
Footsteps down the hall caught his attention. He quickly picked up his sandwich and moved to a less obvious spot behind the door. He didn't turn the light on in the first place, so at least he didn't have that to worry about.  
  
The door creaked open, and held. A second later he watched Logan walk in. "I smell ya in here. And that better not be my turkey leftovers in that sandwich you're eating." The lights turned on.   
  
Remy walked back to the table and shrugged. "No name on it." He stated.   
  
Logan headed for the fridge. He pulled out the container formerly holding a complete serving of turkey cuttings. He held up the container for Gambit to see and pointed at the masking tape on the cover, specifically the letters L O G A N in felt marker.   
  
Gambit grinned. "At least I left you some."   
  
Wolverine sat at the table with what remained of his leftovers and a fork. He tore off the cover and started eating. From what he heard the man had been on death's door just hours earlier. He looked fine now, if a little tired, but one thing for sure, he didn't smell right. "Aren't you supposed to be in med lab recovering from frostbite?"  
  
"Non." Remy answered and finished his sandwich; thinking now would be a good time to leave.  
  
Logan grunted and concentrated on his food. "Don't' concern me none. Just thought you'd like to know what went down after you did."  
  
Remy sat back down. "What?"   
  
Logan smiled, showing his teeth. "Grab me a beer and I'll tell ya."   
  
...  
  
Rogue stood by the garage. She looked at her watch, and waited some more. At first she felt proud of herself for beating the half-hour time limit, but as minutes ticked by and still no sign of Gambit, pissed of was quickly taking over. When a person sets a meeting time, they'd sure as hell better be there at the appointed time.   
  
The object of her mental rant walked through the door moments later carrying a briefcase. "I thought you said half and hour!"   
  
"I grabbed a sandwich." Without looking at her he walked towards Ororo's car. Ororo's new car. It still smelled new.   
  
"We shouldn't be doing this." Rogue watched Remy open the unlocked driver's side door and twist under the steering wheel.  
  
"We're just borrowing it Rogue. She'd agree if she knew."  
  
"So why don't we tell her then?"   
  
Remy smiled. Rogue didn't see that smile very often; Remy seemed to reserve it for only the most desperate -I gotta charm this girl now- situations. And yeah, it worked.   
  
"That'd take out the fun." He explained, and the motor started.   
  
"Why don't we just fly?"   
  
"Get in, and stop worrying. Storm knows, you think I'd deliberately piss of a weather goddess? This is just for deniability in case anything goes wrong." Remy watched Rogue's face. Her eyebrows scrunched down while she thought about that.   
  
"What's my deniability?"   
  
"Tell them my dashing charm and wit corrupted you."   
  
"That's not funny."   
  
He didn't answer. Rogue shifted and sighed, and tried looking out the window. It being still dark outside, she didn't see much. She tried another tactic. "How d'ya like mah dress?" She asked in her sexiest drawl.   
  
"Couldn't find anyt'in' more revealin'?" He asked sarcastically.   
  
"You've never minded my style before. What's wrong with it?" She demanded.   
  
"The point was to be subtle." He grumbled. She didn't fail to notice that he cast an appreciative glance in her direction, so at least that was one step in the right direction.   
  
"It's the only purple suit I have. Ahm tryin' to be symbolic." She answered, and she could have sworn she saw half a grin almost touch his lips. "Are ya feeling okay?"   
  
"I'm fine." He answered. "It's still early. I thought we could have a long breakfast in the city while we wait."   
  
"Sounds good to me." Rogue answered.   
  
He watched the road. "So what happened after..."  
  
"You almost died Remy." Rogue reached forward to turn on the radio and avoid any more questions on that particular note. Storm's radio pre-programmed to three kinds of stations, classical, jazz, and talk radio. Talk Radio won by default, and the current 'hot topic' at three in the morning appeared to the mutant threat. Of coarse.   
  
"Harold is on the line. Harold?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks. I just want to mention that in my kid's school, it's there too. My daughter just got passed up for the volley ball team, and the kid they took instead of her, there's something just not right."   
  
"Thanks Harold. That leads us to another line altogether. How do we protect our children? There are metal detectors at the doors of my own son's school, and that's supposed to protect him, but how about a mutant? There is no such thing as a Mutant detector! Some of those freaks even make fire! Like two weeks ago the fire in Queens that killed three people. This is a severe threat-"  
  
Rogue reached forwards and turned the radio off. She leaned back and looked at Remy again. "What do you think you'd be doin' if you weren't a mutant?"   
  
He shrugged. "How 'bout you?"   
  
She shrugged too. "I'd work somewhere; maybe I'd be a lawyer. Ride the subway to work everyday, and not be afraid I may accidentally brush up against someone."   
  
"And you'd be happy with that?"   
  
She nodded. "Don't you ever wish you could be like everyone else?"   
  
He wished it every day growing up in New Orleans. But now? "You wouldn't miss flying? Or using lamp posts as baseball bats?"  
  
She laughed. "Yeah, that can be fun." She wiggled in her seat to get a little more comfortable, then tilted back into a reclining position. "How about you Remy? What would you be?"  
  
"That's assuming our lives would be different." He answered.  
  
"As different as can be! I'd have never joined Mystique; you'd have never joined the thieves' guild..."   
  
"That doesn't mean anything. All the shit that's been dealt us, it can happen to anyone. I'm not the only kid who ever ended up on the streets. And I don't think for a second that my life would be any better if my eyes were brown." He said softly.   
  
Rogue persisted. "But what if! If you could be anything, even now, what would you be?"   
  
Gambit thought about it for a minute. Anything? "I'd be in New Orleans." He answered truthfully. "And I'd be sleeping."   
  
"So then why aren't ya?"   
  
He shrugged. The whole you can't go home again cliché came to mind. The truth ran more along the lines of more people wanting him dead then alive back home, but come to think of it more people wanted him dead then alive here too. "There are things here I need to finish." He answered.  
  
"Revenge." Rogue tasted the word. "Why now? We've fought Sinister at least a dozen times, why didn't you just do IT then? And don't you dare shrug at me again."   
  
Two trucks passed one right after the other. Remy stared intently at the road for a while; hardly acknowledging Rogue's question, but he didn't shrug. At least not yet. "How long has it been since we last saw him?"  
  
"I don't know, a while."  
  
"Over a year Rogue. He never keeps to himself that long unless he's working on something big." He concentrated on the road for a while. "And I've felt him."   
  
That caught Rogue's attention. "What do you mean?"   
  
"Feels like a spider crawling up my back. I need to find him first."   
  
"You still haven't explained anything. How can you feel him?" She sat up and readjusted her seat.  
  
"I just do."   
  
Rogue smiled and reached out to put her hand on his knee. "You're paranoid."   
  
"I hope so."   
  
Rogue didn't mover her hand away. She could almost imagine what he might really feel like. When was the last time she felt something, really felt something?   
  
Too easy an answer. The cave, just before abandoning him. Why was it whenever she got close, she ended up running? First the crystal wave, or whatever the hell that was. She still dreamt of the disappointment of that day, embracing the end of the world, only to blink and see nothing changed after all. She ran from him then too.   
  
Why did she keep coming back?  
  
  
...........  
(want more, let me know! Please review!) 


End file.
